Then Peeta Smiled
by ice23hot
Summary: Katniss is feeling depressed during her pregnancy, but sometimes the smallest of things can bring her out of the dark.
1. Chapter 1

I remember crying the day I found out. I wasn't exactly sure why I was crying – it could've been the fear, the confusion, and maybe even some anger. I had avoided this for so long, but after fifteen years of marriage, I was going to be a mother.

I couldn't tell Peeta right away. He knew something was very wrong, though, and held me closer than usual that night. My dreams were filled with Prim; her sweet, innocent face before the bombs went off. She cried for me, begged me to save her. I woke up screaming, something I hadn't done in years. Peeta fetched me a cold glass of water, and when he had settled back down next to me, I blurted it out. I was pregnant.

It was selfish timing; he couldn't be happy when I was so obviously distraught at my predicament. This was supposed to be a happy time for him. I was having a baby for him, not me. And it was a mistake. All he said was, "You're upset."

And I tried not to notice that his face was wet when he kissed me good night.

When I woke up, his hand was resting gently on my stomach. This sight must've stirred something up inside me, because the next thing I knew, I was in the bathroom being violently ill. Peeta followed me, holding my hair and rubbing my back when it was over. This pattern continued.

For the first couple of months, Peeta said nothing about the baby. I think he was scared what my reaction would be. I'd always wake up to find his gentle hand resting on my lower abdomen, and if he woke up shortly after me, he'd yank it away, looking sheepish. My heart ached.

I couldn't sleep and the bags under my eyes grew and grew, despite Peeta's pleas for me to try and take naps. The guilt was eating me alive. Peeta wanted the child so badly, but I wouldn't let him be happy about it. I was far too miserable. I was bringing a child into the world, something I had sworn never to do. And it was surely going to perish.

But it was Peeta's child, too, not just mine. Why couldn't I be happy? For us?

Once he offered to take me to the doctor. I yelled at him for the first time in years. The defeated look in his eyes nearly killed me afterwards. I was pushing my husband away.

In my dreams, Snow took my baby and killed it, but when I managed to wake, Peeta's hand was protecting it, as always.

I couldn't hunt anymore. I felt bloated, awkward, a stranger in my own body. Everyone was shocked that I allowed myself to get pregnant, and I felt embarrassed when my breasts and ankles began to swell immensely. I didn't like being looked at. I shied away from Peeta's touch and cried a lot.

On a night around seven months in, Peeta took my hand and turned my face to look at him. He looked so aged, so pained, and it scared me.

"Katniss," he whispered. "No one's going to hurt the baby."

I found myself saying "I know" and finally accepting his embrace, tears streaming down my face. I continued. "I'm sorry. I've been unfair. I'm just scared."

The corners of his lips turned up. "I know. It's all going to be okay."

I really had missed his smile. For the longest time, it was the only thing that kept me going – in the arena, on the trains, in District Thirteen. I found myself smiling too. Everything might just turn out okay after all, as long as Peeta was smiling.

My pregnancy was almost over, and we were just starting to be excited. Peeta looked hopeful whenever I rubbed my stomach or talked to it. It encouraged him to be excited for our future son or daughter. I found myself even wondering what it would look like. For the first time, I imagined an actual baby and not some lifeless, inconveniencing blob. I smiled as we picked out paint for the nursery and a new crib. Peeta, delighted, commented that color was returning to my face, and that I was even glowing.

I called my mother and told her about the baby. She was stunned and seemed rather shy over the phone. Our relationship would never be the same, and I knew it, but I found myself promising to come visit when the baby was born.

One day very late in my pregnancy, I found myself watching Peeta in the bakery. I did this a lot, but this day was different. I noticed the way his muscles flexed as he kneaded dough, how his calves tensed as he bent to put it in the oven, and how his brow furrowed when he was concentrating. In a word, it was sexy. I think I scared him when I began to attack his neck and face, but I couldn't help myself; my husband was attractive, and all mine. Let's just say that one thing led to another.

I went into labor a few hours later.

It wasn't the cliché kind of labor, with all the screaming and cursing. It was pain beyond any pain I'd ever felt, but Peeta was right next to me, and I could relax. His baby – our baby – would be there soon. The midwife announced it was a girl, and that's when I cried. Peeta was stroking my hair, whispering words of praise. Our daughter was handed to me. Her eyes - Peeta's eyes - stared up at me from beneath the pink blankets. A little hand freed itself from the cocoon and grabbed the nearest thing, which happened to be her father's finger.

"She's perfect," he said tenderly. I nodded.

"Would you like to name her?" I whispered, running a finger down her soft cheek.

Peeta looked up at me. "Dawn," he said. And he smiled.

**I'd love it if you left a review! :)**

**-Katie**


	2. Chapter 2

**My story was originally a one-shot, but I decided to write another chapter. I don't know if I'll write any more. But, as always, reviews are really appreciated! :)**

Haymitch came to visit around a week after Dawn was born.

When he showed up at the door, I gasped and dropped the pile of clothes I was carrying. Before me stood a handsome, clean shaven, showered man with a nicely tailored outfit and not a single whiff of alcohol about him.

"Are you going to let me in or just stand there gaping?" he said gruffly, his cheeks going slightly pink as I surveyed him.

"Oh, Haymitch." I exhaled, and soon had my arms wrapped around my old mentor.

"This motherhood stuff has made you a softy," he complained, managing to wriggle out of my grasp. "I just wanted to sober up before I saw my new granddaughter properly."

Granddaughter. He was right, of course. Haymitch, though not always a good example, had taken the role as my father these past fifteen years. In all my time of knowing him, I had never been more proud.

"Come on in," I said, stepping aside. As Haymitch passed, I noticed he didn't swagger like the drunk he usually was. He seemed a little unsure of how to walk decently, but the attempt was cute.

"Let me see her," he grunted. "I gave up drinking for a week just to see her. She better not disappoint. And where's that guy you usually tote around?"

"Oh, you mean just the father of the baby?" I snorted good-naturedly. "He's at the bakery getting some stuff done."

"Just like him to abandon his family," he teased.

We entered Dawn's room quietly. The sun was just beginning to stream through the window and onto the soft green walls of the nursery. This was my favorite time of day for that reason alone – I'd rock Dawn on her chair and watch the sun come in for a visit before it left with the evening chill. Haymitch peeked over the side of crib and smiled crookedly.

"That's Peeta's kid right there. Are you sure it's yours, though? I don't see it scowling."

Pretending not to hear him, I lifted my daughter from the confinement of her crib and, planting a kiss on her soft forehead, transferred her into Haymitch's surprisingly gentle caress. He stood there for a while, swaying back and forth slightly, and never taking his eyes off of Dawn's own blue orbs.

"Hey," he whispered. "You're a cute little thing." There was a story behind those intent eyes of his, staring at my daughter with a kind of regret and longing that I couldn't decipher. It was then that I knew that this baby wasn't for Peeta and me – it was for Haymitch Abernathy, too. He had been waiting for her, just like us, and didn't even know it. Snow had killed those he cared about, too. Perhaps Dawn was a ray of hope for all of us; a sign of starting over and new life.

Needless to say, Grandpa Haymitch was a hit right away.

I visited my mother by myself the next week. She looked so small, so vulnerable when I saw her. Like me, she probably had doubts that the war was actually over and that we were safe. She took her only granddaughter in her arms. "Peeta's," was all she said. Mother even smiled a bit when Dawn took her finger. Then she handed her back, kissed my cheek, and walked into the bedroom. I took this as my cue to leave.

As Dawn grew, so did I. Instead of spiraling into a fit of worry and depression like I had anticipated, I became a brighter person. Peeta looked delighted whenever I gave him a random kiss or embrace in the halls, the bakery, even in public.

Even though my life was considerably more beautiful, we were still broken.

One night after I had finished feeding Dawn, I crawled into bed next to my already-asleep husband. I noticed he was twitching slightly, his face scrunched up in distress.

"Peeta..?" I reached a hand over to wake him, but his hand flew out first and wrapped around my wrist, startling me.

"Why would you do this to me?" he said in a low voice, his jaw clenching as pained eyes bore into me.

"Do what? Peeta, it's okay, it was a dream –"

"How can you live with yourself?" he barked, sitting up in a sudden motion. I tried to back away, feeling frightened, but his hand kept its tight grip on my wrist. He was having one of his "episodes", and I knew it, but they hadn't happened in so long…

Before I could try to bring him back, he continued in a low, furious voice. "You told me she was mine."

"Peeta," I said slowly, trying to keep my voice steady. "Come back."

"You told me Dawn was my daughter."

My breath caught. "Peeta, Dawn is your daughter. She's our daughter."

"You're lying!" he yelled, angrily pushing his blond hair from his face. "It's Gale's, and you told me she was mine! I hate you for that."

These were words I never wanted to hear come from his mouth, and even though I knew he wasn't himself, I found my eyes filling with tears. His back suddenly straightened, his face dropping, and he let go of my sore wrist. He then began to sob, huge waves of sorrow sending shivers down his body. I cautiously put a hand on his wet cheek, prompting him to look at me.

"Come with me, Peeta," I murmured, and like a little child, he took my hand and allowed me to lead him slowly down the hall to the nursery.

He stopped in the doorway, digging his feet into the carpet. He looked at me with wide eyes.

"I don't want to see her."

"Come with me," I said again, squeezing his hand reassuringly. He shuffled to the crib, where Dawn was just beginning to fuss.

"It's your daughter, Peeta," I said, wiping away my tears of fear and hurt. "Can't you see her?"

He looked at her quizzically for a few moments, taking in her face.

"Gale doesn't have blue eyes," he said, his voice dead.

"No, he doesn't," I agreed, trying not to think too much about my old best friend because it hurt. "They're your eyes."

Peeta took a few shaky breaths and nodded. "She looks like me."

Relief spread throughout my body like a warm flame. "You love her, don't you?"

He nodded again. "I waited for her for fifteen years." He turned his back to the crib. "I'd like to go back to bed, Katniss."

The following morning we cried together.

Peeta blubbered apologies.

It was the realization that we were still sick.

Sick, but together.


	3. Chapter 3

Dawn was four now. She was absolutely beautiful, with a head of thick brown hair a shade lighter than mine, and deep blue eyes that put any sapphires to shame. She was so much like Peeta already, from her kindness to her creativity; none of my skepticism, for which I was eternally grateful. She drew me countless pictures of things she liked – Daddy's cakes, the sun, the bed of primroses outside, her teddy bear. Though I treasured each little picture, her simple drawing of me and Peeta holding hands never failed to bring tears to my eyes. I made sure it was framed in the main hallway where everyone could see it.

I remember when I was four, my sister was born.

As I watched my daughter help Peeta outside in his garden, I wondered if she'd like a little brother or sister to play with. For most of my life, Prim had always been the one person I could depend on myself to love, because there was nothing quite as special as the bond between siblings.

That night I curled close to my husband, listening to his heartbeat as I so often did. He had kept his side of the deal, hadn't he? He said that no one was going to hurt me or the baby when I was pregnant with Dawn. And no one had. He had kept his family safe and I could never stop owing him.

"Peeta?"

He kissed the top of my head. "Yeah?"

"I'd like…I mean, I'd be okay with considering… "

He waited patiently as I struggled to get the words out. My mind was protesting – for the longest time, I had hated the thought of having a child, and now I was suggesting that we have another? It's for Dawn, I reminded myself. It's all for her.

I exhaled slowly. "I'd like to give Dawn a little brother or sister."

"You mean…?" Peeta took my face in his hands, desperately searching my eyes for a sign, any sign, that I was serious. "You really mean it?"

"Prim was the only person I loved for the longest time," I said softly. "Dawn deserves that kind of relationship too."

"But do _you_ want another baby?" Peeta asked seriously, his blue eyes sparkling with hope. "I know pregnancy wasn't your favorite, but – "

"I'm sure," I said, cutting him off with a small smile. "I'm sure this time."

He leaned in and kissed me, trembling slightly, and when he pulled away, I saw he was crying. Crying, but overjoyed. I loved making him happy.

I stopped taking my pill, and within two months, I was pregnant. I was frightened, but not angry or bitter like last time. When I told Peeta, he scooped me up in his arms and twirled me around the bakery, laughing. His joy was infectious, and I laughed and cried along with my husband.

We sat Dawn down and told her that she was going to be a big sister. Her forehead wrinkled in confusion, but then she brightened.

"I'll draw him lots of pictures."

"We don't know it's going to be a boy, sweetheart," Peeta chuckled, ruffling her soft hair. She gave him an intense look.

"He a boy, I know it!"

The old patterns continued. Peeta and I would fall asleep with his hand on my belly, and he'd braid my hair back when I was sick. I wasn't sick nearly as much as I had been with Dawn, and I found myself growing much faster, to my dismay. At this rate, I knew I wouldn't be able to go in the woods for much longer, and Peeta was already discouraging it, though I knew he would never actually stop me from going. I needed the woods; pregnancy gave me a strange sensation of claustrophobia that could only be relieved among the dark trees and the fresh autumn air. I grabbed my bow and arrow, kissed Peeta and Dawn on their cheeks, and made off for my woods with high spirits.

I barely managed to shimmy under the fence with my five-month-pregnant belly, and prayed that no one was watching me and laughing. I took off in a general direction, not really caring where I was going. I soon came to a small clearing where I loaded my bow and shot at a tree, not in the mood for actual hunting. The arrow struck with a satisfying thunk.

It was then that I knew something was wrong. I could feel my head go fuzzy and my legs begin to tremble beneath me. Vision swimming, I attempted to stumble to a tree to support myself, but within seconds, everything went black.

I came to what must have been hours later. The sky was undeniably dark, the night air cold around me on the forest floor. I tried to sit up, my head reeling, when I felt a sharp pain in my ankle. I must've twisted it on my way down. Slowly my head cleared enough for me to realize that my teeth were chattering and that I was shivering and covered in goose bumps. Getting scared now, I attempted to stand, but could not put pressure on my damaged ankle without threat of collapse. I rubbed my arms frantically, trying to get warm as my breath fogged in the air.

I heard my name. It sounded frantic, pained.

"Peeta?" I called, hardly daring to believe it. "Peeta, I'm here!"

I could hear the rustling of trees and the crunching of leaves, and Peeta appeared in the clearing.

He made a strangled noise and fell to his knees beside me, pulling off his jacket and shirt before pulling them over my own head and lifting me up. I vaguely heard him whispering things, but the night was so cold and he was so warm that I soon fainted in his bare arms.

When I woke, I was wrapped in a massive cocoon of blankets, my feet propped up on a pillow. My sweaty hair was plastered to my face, my breath feeling heavy as I adjusted myself. I could feel the thick woolen socks and gloves on my feet and hands and struggled to remember what had happened.

The door creaked open and there stood my husband, looking at me with a mixture of relief and disbelief.

"You're awake," he breathed, taking my gloved hand in his. I saw that his eyes were red and puffy and I felt immediate guilt. I had caused him serious worry with my accident.

"I shouldn't have gone in the woods," I choked. "I'm so sorry, Peeta."

He nodded, taking a shaky breath. "I'm just glad I found you. I – I don't know what I would've done if – "

"Shh." I pushed his blond hair away from his face as he sat wearily on the edge of the bed next to me. "I'm not going anywhere."

"What happened?" It was barely a whisper.

"I..don't really know. I was retrieving my arrow and I got light-headed and fell down weird on my ankle, I guess."

Peeta took another shaky breath. "Yeah, your ankle is twisted. I had the doctor look at you while you were…out." His eyes widened. "Don't be mad, please, Kat –"

"Of course not," I reassured him. "You take such good care of me." I looked around. "Where's Dawn?"

"She's sleeping." Peeta paused. "The doctor checked the baby too and said everything looked okay, but told me to prop your feet up." He rested a hand on the covers over my stomach, and immense relief washed over me. I hadn't hurt the baby with my carelessness. I sat up to kiss my husband, knowing what Haymitch had said was true. I'd never deserve him.

"I love you," he said. "Don't do this to me again."

"I love you too. So much."

The next time I fell was when Haymitch was visiting. I didn't faint this time, but I still lost my center of balance and was soon on the floor. Haymitch laughed for a good ten minutes without trying to help me up, and when Peeta came in and saw that he had left me stay like a turtle on its back on the floor, promptly punched him in the face. I must admit, I felt a certain satisfaction when I heard his nose crack.

**Hey guys! I decided to keep going with this story. Next chapter coming soon, sorry this one left off in kind of a weird place. I'm loving the feedback I've been getting.**

**Review? :)**

**-Katie**


	4. Chapter 4

I was enormous.

Though the doctor assured me that I was having only one baby, it was hard to believe him. My midsection positively ballooned out in front of me, and with my sore ankle, it was nearly impossible to walk any reasonable distance. I could tell Peeta found this somewhat amusing, but I let him live only because my hormones were acting up and he looked extra attractive with that smirk on his face.

There were a lot of things I could no longer do – especially hunting, and Peeta had forbidden it anyway – and I couldn't hold my daughter, despite all her pleading. Peeta had to explain to her that there wasn't room for her in my arms.

"Brother needs to go away," she pouted, sticking her face defiantly in Peeta's chest. "He took my spot."

I was even more impatient for the baby to arrive. I felt absolutely ridiculous waddling around, and Haymitch's booming laughter wasn't helping. He came to visit time to time, mainly to see Dawn and to poke fun at me, though he knew better than to laugh when Peeta was in the room; his nose still stung.

For the first time in a while, I decided to make bread. Peeta had taught me when we were first married, but I hadn't voluntarily done so since then. I kneaded the dough under my hands, trying to alleviate all my stress and discomfort, and in a sense, it helped. Pretty soon Peeta came up behind me, wrapping his arms around my massive midsection and began swaying lightly back and forth.

"Hey pretty lady," he purred. "Let's get Haymitch to watch Dawn and we can go somewhere."

"Easy, there," I said, laughing dryly. "I'm not really in a good state to go anywhere, as you can see."

"Just a little picnic?"

I bit my lip, considering this. I really did miss the fresh air.

"Okay. But no one can be around."

"Why's that?" he chuckled, swaying a little more. I blushed.

"I'm fat."

He laughed, kissing my cheek. "I think you look adorable."

I shook my head, trying to free myself from his grasp. "You're just saying that. I'm all… swollen."

"Yeah...and I like it."

"Keep it down in there, love birds!" Haymitch yelled from the other room. "I can hear you from here, and it's nauseating!"

The next day we slowly made our way to our spot in the woods with picnic basket in tow. We used the gate this time, though I eyed my hole in the fence wistfully as we passed. I was cramping a little bit, but it was hardly noticeable. Peeta laid down the blanket and I all but fell onto it, exhausted from our short walk.

"Not as young as we used to be, huh?" Peeta sighed as he plopped down next to me.

"Or as skinny," I murmured.

He unpacked an array of mouth-watering buns, tiny cakes, and some fresh fruit. Peeta let me have most of it; some days I'd cry because I was so hungry. For some reason, I acted a lot more a pregnant lady now than I had with Dawn. I think Peeta liked it; it showed I wasn't in denial about this baby.

"Are you excited?" Peeta asked, breaking the silence. I knew he was talking about the baby, so I nodded.

He grinned. "Me too."

We sat quietly for a little while, letting the sounds of the forest wash over us in a calming wave. I was feeling beautifully relaxed until I noticed how tense Peeta had gotten. His face was set, eyes boring into something I couldn't see, fists clenched. He was about to have another episode. What he said next, however, surprised me.

"Katniss, talk to me about the Games."

"The Games?"

"Yes!" he snapped. "What happened?"

I wasn't sure I quite felt like retaliating what had happened, but I could see that it was what my husband needed. I took a shaky breath. "We went into the arena, you and I, and our love was for the cameras. Or, at least, I thought it was. You looked at me before we stepped off our platforms, and I ran, like Haymitch told me too. All I could do was hope that you'd live, and I can remember the last time I saw your face before making it to the forest…it was just a split second, but it stayed with me the entire Games." I felt my eyes welling up, but I continued, not just talking for Peeta but for myself too. "I lied to myself the entire time. Admitting how much I needed you to live would make me weak. So I ran. Not just from the Careers, but from myself, I guess. I found you in the mud; saw the whites of your eyes, and felt the most relief I've ever felt, Peeta. Thresh saved my life and killed Clove. There were Mutts. And I put Cato out of his misery." I had to stop there. Luckily, Peeta was nodding and his eyes had softened.

"You didn't forget," he said quietly, twirling a piece of grass between his fingers. "You said you'd try and forget."

I shook my head. "I could never do that."

Peeta reached over to place a hand on my stomach. "I'm sorry I made you talk about it."

I placed my hand over his and leaned over to kiss his cheek. "It was necessary."

A few days later, I went into labor. I thought I'd be more prepared than last time, but in reality, it was worse. The midwife checked my vitals and stated that the child was very large and was in a strange position. Fear gripped me.

I had been in labor for ten hours. Sweat clung to my forehead and I was feeling almost too weak to breathe, let alone push. Peeta already had bags under his eyes and looked as tired as me. Every time the midwife would check and me and shake her head, his eyes lost more and more luster.

"It's going to be okay, Katniss," he'd say, voice surprisingly even. "Just hang in there."

It was hot, and then it was cold. I lost consciousness once or twice. I heard Peeta saying things but couldn't make out what. My ears rang and I could vaguely hear the midwife telling me to push. I don't remember much after that, but soon the room was filled with the sounds of new life, and Peeta was crying.

"It's a boy, sweetie," he choked. "He's a boy."

The rest was a blur – my son was placed in my arms, the midwife was telling Peeta 'no more kids', and I was being laid in a clean bed with Dawn peeking over the side, gazing at her new brother. She asked Peeta if he could be named after 'him'. After some explaining, it became known that she was talking about the man in the sky; the one Daddy had shown her.

"I showed her a constellation," he said, smiling down at our new son. "Orion."

"Son of fire," I breathed.

Perfect.

**Hey guys! Sorry this isn't my best work, but I've been having a hard time focusing lately. I know there are some other fics where Katniss and Peeta's son's name is Orion, but I legitimately thought of that name when I first read the epilogue because I'm a huge astronomy nerd :) Orion was a mighty hunter and was also called the son of fire so I thought it fit well.**

**I hope you liked it. The reviews I've been getting are so kind. I'll try to write a better chapter next time. Review?**

**-Katie**


	5. Chapter 5

It was a sight I never thought I'd behold.

In one rocking chair was a passed out Haymitch, cradling little Orion, and in another was Peeta, snuggling Dawn close to him as he snored softly. They had played a little too long, I guess.

My family.

Smiling, I stepped quietly from the room so I wouldn't disturb them, and decided it was a good opportunity to go outside and get some fresh air. That day was full of surprises, I guess, and I found myself with two visitors as I stepped out the front door.

"Annie," I breathed, embracing the much-missed woman before me. Next to her stood Finnick Jr., almost twenty and just as painfully handsome as his father. Apparently he had inherited great amounts of charm, too; he leaned forward to kiss my cheek.

"Nice to see you again, Mrs. Mellark," he said, flashing a blinding smile.

"Twenty years of marriage and you still go pink when someone calls you that," Annie said lightly as she gave my hand a squeeze. "I hope you don't mind that we just dropped by…"

"Not at all!" I exclaimed. "It's great to see some familiar faces. Come on inside."

"Mama?" Dawn had appeared in the doorway, rubbing her sleepy eyes. "Who's there?"

"Dawn, do you remember Annie and Finnick? The last time you saw them you were a baby."

She stepped tentatively forward, but quickly hid behind me when she made eye contact with a grinning Finnick.

"That's a boy," she whispered, peeking out from behind my legs.

"You don't need to be shy," said Finnick jovially, squatting down and putting out his hand for Dawn to shake. "I don't bite too often."

"Daddy said to stay away from boys," said Dawn cautiously, and I swallowed a laugh. Of course Peeta would've told her that. Finnick feigned offense.

"A shot right through the heart!" He stumbled around, clutching his chest and making gagging sounds, and soon Dawn was giggling.

It was pretty surreal, seeing all of us in one room again. It was almost like old times, only there was no need for fear or sadness today. Yet, a strange sort of tension hung in the air; a tension that acknowledged the absence of Finnick Sr., Prim, Gale, our old friends and family. There were Dawn and Orion, blissfully unaware of what we had all gone through in order to be where we were. Their happy laughter, their genuine smiles, their interaction with our new guests was such a relief to me.

They'd never have to go through what we did.

Annie and Finnick left that evening - we practically had to pry Dawn from Finn's leg - and a sort of satisfied happiness stayed in the house.

"It was nice seeing them again," said Peeta, cradling a sleepy Orion in his arms. "I'm glad Annie's doing well. I don't know how I'd keep going after a spouse died." He smiled sadly at me, blue eyes peering at me under long eyelashes.

"I'm leaving." Haymitch appeared in the hallway, holding a giggling Dawn upside down. "It's that time of night when you guys start getting all sentimental and stuff." He shook his head. "Besides, I already won a tickle fight. My work here is done."

He tossed a still giggling Dawn onto the couch – Peeta looked reproving – and left with a wave of his hand.

It was the first truly peaceful night we'd had in a while. Both Dawn and Orion had gone to bed without complaint, the night air was warm, and a few moonbeams were shining perfectly onto our pillows. We were quiet for a while as I lay snuggled close to Peeta's bare chest, listening to his heart. It was the greatest sound in the world. Thoughts swirled around my head, and after a bit I decided to ask the question that had been hanging in the air ever since our son was born. I swallowed.

"Peeta?"

"Yeah?"

"Are you sad that we can't have more kids?"

"We already have two perfect children," he murmured sleepily. "Why would we need any more?"

"I…don't know. I just thought –"

Peeta had rolled over and silenced me with a kiss. "Don't think about it, Katniss. I'm a dad, you're a mom, Haymitch is a grandpa – those are miracles in themselves. And since the doctor says it's a question of your health, we won't even consider having more kids. Okay?"

"Okay," I said softly. I yawned before reaching up a hand to run through his thick blond hair. "I'm glad Orion got your hair."

He grinned. "The Mellark trademark lives on."

There were times when I felt the pressure of not letting two families, the Mellarks and the Everdeens, die out. Peeta and I were the only ones left, and the whole idea was very lonely in itself. But we had done it – we were a family, with two perfect children that were going to have two perfect futures. Well, as perfect as we could make them. After all, they were the Rebels' children.

Just as my eyes were starting to droop, Peeta's voice came from the dark.

"Will we ever tell them about the Games?"

It was an issue I had thought about for a long time, especially back when I was pregnant with Dawn. And I still didn't know a good answer.

"They should be…aware," I finally said with a sigh. "Not about what it entailed, but just…the mentality of our past lives."

Peeta didn't respond. I thought maybe he had fallen asleep, but one more question arose.

"Will you do something for me?"

"Anything," I replied.

"When I'm…well, when I have those hallucinations, don't let me near our kids. I don't want to hurt them."

I exhaled slowly, feeling endlessly sorry for my husband. How horrid it would be to not know/remember if you were going to hurt your family. I found his hand under the covers and took it.

"Alright, Peeta. But you're so strong. I don't think you realize how far you've become…That one night, you asked me about the Games, and it all went away, remember?"

He nodded. "I guess I have so much hope and love that I can't just give into the hallucinations anymore, even if I wanted to."

I leaned over to kiss him. "I'm proud of you."

"Our family's safe. Real or not real?"

It was a game we hadn't played in a long time. Presidents Snow and Coin were dead, the rebellion was successful, the Games were gone forever, and Peeta was here, with me, with our family. So it was with complete and utter surety that I replied, "Real."

And he smiled.

**That's a wrap! Thanks so much for reading! I love writing about Katniss and Peeta and their family so keep an eye out for future stories and oneshots on them. I'd love it if you'd take a second to review; all of your reviews have been so lovely! Thank you!**

**-Katie**


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